Of Fists and Boredom
by Flybie99
Summary: Denmark's bored, and none of the other Nordics seem to want to do anything to help. Human names used.


'Lukas.'

The Norwegian man kept his eyes fixed on the page of his book, one hand lazily stirring a spoon in his cup of coffee.

'Lukas.'

No reply.

'Luuuuuuukkkaaaaaaaasssssss.'

The Norwegian raised blank, expressionless eyes from _Peer Gynt_ and fixed them unblinkingly on the Dane. 'What?'

The tall blonde slid off the sofa with a slithering thump and landed at Lukas' feet. 'I'm bored.'

'Good for you,' Lukas responded tonelessly, turning back to his book.

'Entertain me,' the other whined, tugging at his fellow's trouser leg.

'Entertain yourself, Mathias.'

Mathias gave a pathetic moan and rolled around on the carpeted floor, his fingers still groping pitifully at the fabric of Lukas' trousers. 'But I'm boooooooored!'

'I can tell,' Lukas said, turning a page of his book. 'Go bother Emil.'

'But Luuuukaaaasss, can't you -'

'No.'

' - just give me something to -'

'No.'

' - entertain me for -'

'No.'

'A few -'

'No.'

Mathias glared at Lukas, the latter of whom picked up his cup and took a sip of coffee, seemingly unimpressed by the conversation.

'You're boring,' he grumbled, getting to his feet and slouching out of the room.

Lukas allowed himself a vague feeling of satisfaction, before returning, smiling slightly, to _Peer Gynt_.

'Hey, Emil -'

'If you're just here because Lukas told you to get lost, you can clear off.'

The Dane frowned. 'How did you -'

'Because the only reason you ever talk to me is if Lukas is ignoring you.'

Mathias leant on the table and stared at the Icelandic man, trying to make eye contact.

'If you could just -'

'Get lost.'

' - why won't anyone -'

'Don't care.'

' - listen -'

'Shut up.'

' - to me?!'

'Because you're any annoying bastard, that's why,' Emil responded flatly. 'Go talk to Tino.'

Mathias stood up, feeling distinctly aggrieved. As he marched from the room, head held determinedly high, Emil sent a silent apology to the Finn who was currently sitting directly in Mathias' line of fire.

'_Tino_!' Mathias bellowed as he burst into the kitchen. The small, round-faced Finn gave a start and looked around. When he saw who it was, he smiled and dusted his hands off on his apron.

'Hello, Mathias!' he trilled, picking up a mixing bowl and starting to stir the batter inside with great enthusiasm. 'I was just making some Korvapuusti!'

'I don't care about your stupid pastries!' Mathias shouted, kicking a cupboard door. 'Entertain me!'

'E-entertain you?' Tino repeated confusedly, his stirring becoming less vigorous. 'In what way?'

'Any way!' the Dane yelled. 'Make me stop being bored!'

'W-well, I...er...' Tino rubbed the back of his neck uncomfortably, flour from the mixing bowl turning his hair grey. 'I don't... That is to say, I don't think I could...'

'You're all rubbish!' Mathias said loudly. 'None of you are interesting!'

'Have you tried Berwald?' Tino said, brightening. 'I'm sure he could find something for you to do!'

At this, Mathias shrank back a little, a look of fear crossing his face for the briefest second before being replaced by a confident grin. 'Yeah! Yeah, I'll go ask the Swede!'

He strode from the kitchen, smiling in a slightly nervous way, just as Tino's Korvapuusti started to burn.

Mathias' entrance into the garage was a little more subdued than the previous two occasions.

Sidling up to the door, he gave it a sharp tap and waited. From inside, he heard the sound of an electric saw being stifled before a deep voice called, 'C'm'n.'

Turning the handle, Mathias stepped inside the brightly-lit room, wincing at the reinstated scream of the saw.

'Hey, Berwald...'

The tall man leaning over the saw straightened up and brushed himself down before turning to Mathias.

The other couldn't help but quail at the expressionless face; the steely blue eyes behind wire-rimmed glasses; the glare that was completely devoid of emotion.

'Hm?' Berwald said in reply, staring at Mathias with his hands still positioned on the saw.

'Eh... It, er...doesn't matter.'

Berwald grunted. 'Sure?'

'Yeah.'

Berwald nodded and turned back to his work.

A sudden wave of anger rose in Mathias at that moment, and, without thinking about what he was doing; without even considering the consequences, he charged at Berwald.

At the last moment, the Swede turned in time to see Mathias barrelling towards him, his face contorted with rage. Berwald just had time to shove the saw into a safe position before Mathias slammed into him. Suddenly, all the breath was gone from his lungs and he was flying backwards, Mathias' shoulder still sunk into his stomach. Then the wall rushed up to meet him and he felt all the bones in his body shudder as he slid down it onto the floor - but already Mathias was on his feet, his fists raised, anger still twisting his face.

Berwald got to his feet as fast as he was able and lunged at the Dane. He felt his fist connect with the other's nose with a satisfying crunch and heard Mathias' shout of pain before a foot smashed into his shin and he fell spectacularly, his chin cracking onto the cold floor. Tiny lights burst before his as Mathias seized him by the collar and dragged him back up, blood pouring from his nose.

Berwald knew he must look no better. Dragging all his strength together, he rushed again at the Dane and felt a couple of his opponent's ribs splinter beneath the force. There was a yell, and Berwald heard a rattle of metal as Mathias picked something up, and then -

Something very hard hit him on the temple and he dropped like a stone.

He vaguely registered the Dane's cry of triumph as his head hit the floor. There was a strange buzzing in his ears, and his vision was blurry. It was only then that he realised that his glasses were not on his face: they must have fallen off at some point during the fight.

Something grabbed him by the back of the neck and he was dragged into a sitting position against the wall.

'Got anything to say before I finish you off, filthy Swede?' he heard Mathias' voice sneer.

Berwald opened his mouth.

'Good game,' he croaked.

Mathias laughed. 'Thanks. So it's 6:3 to you, then?'

'Hm,' Berwald managed.

'Sorry about the last blow,' Mathias said. 'Didn't mean to hit you so hard.'

'Glasses,' Berwald muttered.

'Oh, geez, sorry!'

Berwald heard Mathias crouch down and pick something up, and then felt something cold touch his face.

The bluriness vanished, and Mathias' anxious face swam into focus just inches from his own.

'You OK?' he said gently.

Berwald punched him on the nose.

Mathias staggered back, clutching his face, blood streaming out from between his fingers. 'What was that for?' he bellowed.

'Used a weapon,' Berwald grunted. 'Weapons are against the rules.'

Mathias wiped his nose gingerly. 'Fair enough, I suppose.'

There was a sound from the doorway, and both Mathias and Berwald turned to see Lukas, Emil and Tino standing in the doorway, their mouths sagging open.

'Wha...' Lukas began.

'I've got some good news, guys!' Mathias said, dragging Berwald to his feet and slinging an arm around his shoulders.

'Good news?' Emil repeated disbelievingly. 'What could possibly be good about this situation?'

Mathias grinned.

'I'm not bored any more.'

**Hey there! I hope you enjoyed the story, because I certainly enjoyed writing it! :D And remember, if you review, I'll give you a virtual scone - one of England's finest! :3**


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